Falling Angels
by DragonRaye
Summary: Just a brief interlude between 17 and 18 the night before they were made into androids. Bit of a language warning, I guess. -oneshot-


This was an idea that wouldn't leave me alone, and since one night I was just feeling depressed, I decided to write it. And since 17 and 18 aren't androids yet, I assumed they have actual names. So James is 17 and Sam is 18. Don't ask me where they came from either. Those were the first names that popped into my head. Enjoy, and review. I won't know if it sucks if no one tells me. ^. ^ 

****

The moon wasn't out tonight, making the already eerie shadows cast by the streetlamps even longer and more chilling. While it was nearly dawn, in the alley it still looked the dead of night with only a few glimpses of light from the odd window. A single flame flared to life below, only to vanish as quickly as it came. In its place remained the red burning embers of tobacco and the stench of fresh smoke as the huddled figure exhaled. Too frigid was it for her tank top and cutoff shorts, but she leaned against the alley wall with an aloofness that was uncanny.

 "You know that's bad for you, right?" The velvet voice seemed disembodied in the darkness, especially when the speaker's dark features made him blend into the black night.

 "Fuck off," she growled, a small hint of affection tainting her voice as she flicked the cigarette at him. It was caught in midair and squashed lifeless next to her ear. She could feel his pale blue eyes burning into her own although she couldn't see. "What the hell do you want, James?"

 "Where were you last night?" he hissed in reply. "You were supposed to come with me, remember?"

 "I had more pressing matters." The dismissive tone was more than obvious to anyone with half a wit, but her brother either didn't want to notice, or didn't care.

 "Such as...?" he prodded, leaning one shoulder against the crumbling brick wall, turning her head toward him. Even with the slight light behind her, he could tell her fine features were twisted into an ugly scowl. When she didn't answer right away, his fingers tightened on her jaw, his tone warning. "Sam..."

 "Stephen." The deadpan answer made James go rigid. The leader of their gang had taken a special liking to Samantha, and was using his superiority as the twins' savior to further his relationship with her. The blond shrugged noncommittally and pressed the end of another cigarette to her lips.

 James grabbed the lighter from her hand before she could fully get it out of her pocket and pressed her more firmly to the wall. "What the hell do you think you're doing with that asshole?"

 She smiled humorlessly. "Keeping him out of our business, brother. He should sleep all fucking day."

 James let go in disgust. His sister's bedroom skill was no secret amongst the gang, and he didn't want to know what the details of what she'd done to Stephen only hours before. She still reeked of smoke and sex.

 She didn't seem to notice and crossed her arms over her bare stomach. "What did the old geezer want this time? Another 'favor' perhaps?"

 Both twins scowled at the memory of the last thing they'd done for the crazy old doctor: Sam's shoulders and most of her neck were now a network of scars while James' kneecaps and elbow were practically nonexistent.

 "No. He said he found a way to fix us," he grunted, returning to his former position.

 "Hasn't the little fucker done enough?" she growled, running a self-conscious hand along the side of her neck. "I'm thinking of castrating the bastard myself. A nice little ball-chain necklace." James shuddered at the thought of castration but couldn't help but agree. "So then what did you tell him?"

 "Nothing. Just walked out on him."

Sam's slender blond eyebrow rose. "I'm proud of you, brother. I was thinking you'd never get the balls to stand up to him." James grunted and she smirked. "My foul language upsetting you, street rat?"

 "I'm just amazed at how stupid you can sound if you really try," he commented, turning so his entire back was supporting his weight against the wall.

 "I'm street now," she growled, staring up at the starless sky and wishing she had a cigarette. "Intelligence only gets you killed faster."

 "And you think picking fights with the leader of the Talon Society doesn't?"

 "Shut it, James." She didn't want to remember the days before a housefire orphaned them, not because of any attachment to her parents but because life was so much easier then. Living and surviving were two entirely different things in the city, and the twins had worked their way down to the basest form of survival.

 The two were silent for a moment before Sam, in a sheltered whisper, asked, "Do you think he means it?"

 "I don't know," he replied, almost as quietly. "I just don't know."

 Another pause. "Should we take him up on it? He can't mess us up much more than we are now."

 "You're getting desperate."

 "I want OUT of this fucking place! I'm not gonna live to see 20 with the way things are, and if I'm goin' out then I'm gonna at least fucking do it on MY terms." She spat, blue eyes hard.

 James nodded. "Then come on. He won't wait forever." They walked off, the rising sun at their backs, forever looking into the dark.


End file.
